


Looking For a Place to Land

by Distracted



Category: Leverage
Genre: Eliot Spencer introspection, Gen, Nathan Ford introspection, Singing, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:55:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29368131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Distracted/pseuds/Distracted
Summary: Nate learns that Eliot can sing. They both ponder how life brought them right to the spot they needed to be.OrI got to thinking about how Eliot being the fiddle in the Studio Job came around and this is what my brain came up with.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Looking For a Place to Land

Looking for a Place to Land

Nate prides himself on knowing his team, knowing their skills and their weakness and their fears, and it's not often they manage to surprise him. Eliot was the last, with his cooking skills. The man is a damn fine chef, and Nate has come to appreciate the leftovers that keep appearing in his fridge. It makes the place feel more like a home, and while he's sure that's not exactly what the other man intended, it's how it makes him feel. He can't remember the last time someone cooked for him - Maggie, probably, before Sam was diagnosed and their world fell to pieces. He's not sure if that history has him looking for deeper meaning where there is none, and he's not about to ask. He'll just enjoy the food, say thank you and occasionally slip a bottle of good Whisky into the hitter's bag. 

It's been a hell of a long day planning their next job and Nate shoves away from the table, wandering towards the kitchen, idly wondering what Eliot might have left this time. He has a headache gnawing at the base of his skull and while the bottle is calling him, he needs food if he's going to function the next day. It takes a moment for the low, smooth singing to register and Nate pauses outside of the kitchen door to listen. It's not a song he's instantly familiar with; country was never his favourite genre, but there's something compelling about the words that freezes him in place to listen. 

_ I've crossed oceans _

_ Fought freezing rain and blowing sand _

_ I've crossed lines and roads and wandering rivers _

_ Just looking for a place to land _

Something about the words makes his breath catch in his chest, or maybe it's the intimacy of the moment; the hall is dark and quiet apart from the low hum of the radio and Eliot's voice, harmonising with the music as he sings on, unaware of his audience. Nate's never heard the song before but he knows it'll haunt him now, or maybe that's just how he feels because of the emotion Eliot is putting into the words. 

_ 'Cause these once proud engines _

_ They choke up now and then _

_ Now, now I'm starting to lose my faith _

_ But still looking for a place to land _

_ So tower, tower please come in _

He thinks about turning and walking away, because this is clearly meant as a private performance. He doesn't know if it's the long day weighing on him, or the hunger lowering his defences but his eyes prickle with tears and he finds himself leaning closer to the door, straining to hear the next line. It's  _ Eliot's  _ song, sure, but Eliot isn't the only one looking for a place to call home. They all are, in their own ways and damn if the group of misfits haven't needled their way under his skin because he suddenly can't imagine being anywhere else. It feels  _ right _ to be listening to the words in the half-light in the hallway and Nate realises suddenly that somehow, the team has become a family. They have a place to land, even if some of them are still circling, trying to find their way down without crashing. 

_ I know I can bring you in _

_ And I touched down and couldn't find my feet _

_ But you held me up till I could stand _

_ Now I never fly alone _

_ I've got a place to land _

The music fades away and Nate freezes, uncharacteristically unsure of his next move. He thinks about slipping away, coming back once Eliot has finished in the kitchen but he's pretty sure the other man knows he's outside the door. 

"You might as well come in," Eliot says, and Nate blows out a breath and steps into the kitchen, flickering his eyes over the other man. There's a hint of colour in Eliot's cheeks that could be a blush, or it could be the heat from the stove. 

"I didn't know you could sing," he says and Eliot quirks an eyebrow. 

"What, you think the only thing I know how to do is bust heads?" Eliot asks, a deliberate call back to another conversation just like this, and sets a plate of mushroom pasta in front of Nate. There's an amused twist to his lips though and he grabs them both a bottle of beer from the fridge, settling down across from Nate. "My mom, she loved music. We always had the radio on, and she'd sing along, encouraged me and my sister to join in-" he pauses, eating a bite of his pasta, thinking how to put his thoughts into words without stripping his past bare, because there are some things he wants to keep tucked away. "I lost that, for a long time. I was so far in the darkness there was no room for light, and music reminded me of better times." He stops again, swipes his hand over his mouth. "I felt like I didn't deserve to be happy, not with the blood on my hands." He's out of words, and falls silent, taking a swig of his beer as he glances at Nate's face. 

Nate blinks, face unreadable and Eliot wonders if he's said too much, wonders if he's exposed a raw spot that would have been better left armoured. 

"What changed?" Nate asks, even though he's pretty sure he already knows. Pretty sure finding the team stopped Eliot sliding further into the darkness and pretty sure the other man has no idea that's mutual, because Nate knows without them, without a chance to right some wrongs, he'd be lost. They came together, saved each other and if that's not a miracle, Nate isn't sure what else to call it. 

"I found a place to land," Eliot says simply and tips his bottle in a toast. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The lyrics are from the song Looking for a Place to Land by Justin Townes Earle. He was a fabulously talented man who was sadly taken far too soon. 
> 
> https://youtu.be/130_9CQBD5E


End file.
